


Transformers: Mirror Mirror

by Blackbirdsonthemarsh



Series: Transformers: Mirror Mirror [2]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Shattered Glass
Genre: Alternate Universe, More tags will be added as I post more chapters, Multi, Shattered Glass, Soundwave is not having a fun go of it at the beginning. not a fun one at all., Telepathy gone very much wrong, or any canon, this is my own original continuity, this is not based off the canon comics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:33:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26890711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blackbirdsonthemarsh/pseuds/Blackbirdsonthemarsh
Summary: Optimus Prime has fallen, but the Autobots still stand, under new management. The game may have shifted, but the war continues to rage on the planet of Cybertron. The heroic Decepticons are still fighting their bitter rivals, and there seems to be no end in sight.When mysterious half-scrambled signals in a language thought long-extinct are detected by both factions, the tides of war begin to turn once more as something thought long-lost is unburied... but little do they know what else they've awoken.Even though the war rages on, family ties hold strong, bonds are forged, and friendships are made as the Decepticons struggle towards victory.
Relationships: Skywarp & Starscream & Thundercracker (Transformers)
Series: Transformers: Mirror Mirror [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1891849
Comments: 3
Kudos: 14





	1. Outliers - Part One

**Author's Note:**

> If you found this while randomly scrolling through ao3, hello! This work is not an AU of any existing Transformers show or comic, rather it is my own original mirrorverse continuity. This fan-continuity is mostly original, but takes some inspiration from canon series. Most of its canon inspiration is from the Generation One cartoon, with some additional ideas taken from IDW and Animated — however it takes many departures from typical Transformers lore, and takes almost no inspiration from the canonical Shattered Glass comics. 
> 
> All characters in this work are taken from canon, though their personalities have been flipped, and I may have taken some extreme liberties with the more minor characters.
> 
> More context for this AU can be found on the Tumblr blog transformers-mirror-mirror, where the designs, character profiles, worldbuilding, and lore are posted. 
> 
> I'll keep further explanations brief: More tags and characters will be added as the story progresses, the main romantic pairings will be Fulcrum/Misfire, Lyzack/Airachnid/Thunderblast, Red Wing/Bitstream, Skyfire/Starscream, Spinister/Krok and Optimus/Elita, with some mild Windblade/Strongarm.

_Greetings, reader of hopefully mechanical or Cybertronian origin (if this account makes its way to Earth I’m going to have a lot of explaining to do…). In this foreword, I, your narrator, Bitstream of Vos am going to clarify that everything you will find in this document occurred as it is presented. This is an entirely factual piece, compiled from multiple eyewitness accounts, including my own. All the chaotic bullscrap we Cons went through- I was there for it. This document you are either holding in your hands or viewing on a datapad chronicles the latter part of the war between us Decepticons, and the Autobots. I assume that you are at least familiar with both of these faction’s names, unless you live under a rock (in which case, please send me the location of this untouched rock, I would like to join you down there). The war was a hellish and harrowing experience, but the tail end of it was… something else. In this document, you will find a true (as I’ve already explained. I need to reiterate this as things will get fantastical and somewhat insane in the latter part of this… disaster of a war) depiction of this war’s glorious (or terrible, depending on your perspective) end._

_The first part of our story (can I really call it a story if I lived through this slag?) begins aboard the flagship of the Decepticon fleet, and the headquarters of its military- a ship known as The Victory. Personally, if I’d named it, it’d be called The Neverending Disaster, because that’s what its crew, the heroic, noble, and more than a little chaotic faction known as the Decepticons turned it into. Soundwave, the chief of intelligence and communications - and my good friend - is having a bit of a… problem, to put it lightly. Now, onto the story!_

_\- Decepticon Information and Technology Specialist Bitstream_

* * *

Soundwave scraped his claws against his work desk. The stealth jet’s wings whipped back and forth in frustration. He heard something - not with his audials. With his mind, instead. Soundwave was an Outlier, one with telepathic abilities, and picking up random snippets of thought was a normal thing for Soundwave. Sometimes, thoughts did linger longer than he’d like them to. But...

Soundwave _wanted_ to say this was just his telepathy picking up a stray thought from one of the other mechs in the room. But... this didn’t feel like a thought in any way shape or form. Stray thoughts were brief, flitting, and usually half-formed. Little mental comments, tiny sentences someone thought of saying, quotes they were recalling. Tiny things. What was in his head now was a _sound_ , a _noise_ , in the back of his mind. It slithered through his thoughts like a snake, as if searching for something. This was not a little sentence about how someone felt like grabbing a snack later, this was a garbled, staticky, terrible noise. One that lingered in his mind, growing louder and louder. It would pause, then repeat itself, like a broken and distorted recording. A cold lump of fear settled in Soundwave’s fuel tanks.

This… wasn’t normal. Something was wrong.

He’d been using his abilities for millennia… never before had something like this happened. The noise grew in volume, drowning half his thoughts out and garbling the ones it didn’t. Soundwave’s vents sucked in a burst of air, and he closed his optic. The jet lowered his helm into his claws, trying to direct his attention to something, anything else. To rip his focus away from the terrible sound invading his very thoughts.

It didn’t go away. It kept growing louder and louder and--

“Soundwave- err, sir. Are you alright?”

Soundwave’s head shot up and he whipped around in his seat, looking down to see Bitstream, a Seeker he worked with, one who ranked almost directly below him when it came to commanding the techies in this room. Soundwave considered Bitstream a good friend- and a good, concerned friend was precisely now what Soundwave needed right then. The black and blue Seeker was staring up at him, optics narrowed slightly in obvious concern. The smaller aircraft shifted from pede to pede, and Soundwave felt half-formed thoughts filter in from the mech. 

“I’m sorry, Bits- what did ya want, buddy?” Soundwave put on his calmest voice, trying to ignore that Unicron-damned sound. Act casual, hopefully he'll go back to working on a project, or go back to making goo-goo eyes at Red Wing and leave Soundwave to his problems. 

Oh, but things were not going Soundwave's way. Not today they weren't. 

“You- you had your hands on your head, and your wings were just going crazy. Is everything okay, Soundwave? Do you need to go to the medbay or something? I could probably cover for you or something.” Bitstream said, the typical bite in his tone that Soundwave had come to expect being absent. Oh how Soundwave preferred being snapped at to being subjected to worry from others. 

Bitstream only continued. “Don’t lie you big fragger. I can tell something’s wrong.” He crossed his arms, wings flicking upwards. “You don’t have to tell me if it’s some weird Outlier stuff, I know your sparks are weird, but please get to the damn medbay if it’s something serious.” Soundwave wasn’t keeping control of his abilities, and thoughts were beginning to rush into his processor. Nonono, this always happened when he wasn't in control- he had to stay in control, or else-

Every pair of optics in the room was on him, and all their concerned thoughts were beginning to bleed over into his mind. They came rushing in, as if a dam had just burst. He could barely tell who was who, voices and sentences overlapping in a chaotic jumble of thoughts, each accompanied by a burst of emotion. 

_‘Isheokaywhat’supwithSounderswhy’sitgottabenowthathefreaksoutishegonnadieisthissomeoutlierbullscrapiswearifhediesi’mthrowinghiscatofftheship-’_ His mind was an incomprehensible mess, with foreign thoughts and that garbled, Unicrondamned sound colliding and melding together, coupled with foreign emotions seeping in. Concern, overwhelming concern, fear, annoyance, all directed at him. He could barely make sense of them- which were even his own? Soundwave’s vents dragged in air, his frame feeling cold and hot with shame at the same time. The jet’s single optic was flitting around his screenface, taking in what was happening in the room but not truly processing anything but what was goind on inside his helm. This always happened when he lost control- voices and thoughts swirled around in his mind. Now, they were blending together with that sound, which was swiftly becoming unbearable. 

Soundwave heard a voice yell out his name, likely Bitstream, but he didn’t react, only curling in on himself, claws tightening their grip on his helm. His screenface shut off, and he let out a keen of distress. 

Far, far too late, he recalled advice he’d been given long ago- focus on something else. Tightening his claws’ grip on his helm so tightly it drew energon, Soundwave tried to focus on the sounds he heard, and what he felt. What did he hear- the clicking of keyboards, the sounds of the room’s ventilation chugging along. He felt his claws digging into his plating, and heard the sound of his HUD piniging him about the damage. Fortunately for him, his Warframe coding prevented the sensation from being painful. Soundwave heard the sound of Bitstream’s voice, sharp and loud, full of concern and alarm. The voices of a handful of others joined in, each trying to drag him back to reality. Focus on what’s outside your mind, that’s what he’d always been told...

Like water in the heat of Hadeen’s rays, the foreign thoughts began dissipating, evaporating like steam- save for that garbled noise that wouldn’t let his thoughts free - and with a click, his face turned back on again, and through his single optic he saw everyone staring at him (save Radar, who was about as concerned as he normally was, which is to say he didn’t even care). A handful of leftover foreign thoughts floated in his mind, mostly disorganized ones from Bitstream, who was practically consumed by worry at this point. Soundwave felt a pang of guilt for worrying the mech. 

“Soundwave? Soundwave!” Bitstream’s wings flicked in concern, his optics wide and worried. “Soundwave, answer me? If you turn into a zoned-out husk forever I’ll have to take care of Ravage and I really don’t wanna do that, so please answer me?”

Soundwave quickly blurted out an answer, wanting to avoid explanation. Suspicious sounds? Bitstream would only be further worried by this. “It’s nothing, really! I’m fiiine, Bitsie! Just an- uh- just a helmache!” Frag, Warframes like him didn’t _get_ helmaches, but it was too late to backtrack now. “It’s cuz of the whole telepathy thing I’ve got going on, I’m fine! Just an annoying lil thing.” He projected a smiley emote onto his facescreen, knowing that there was absolutely no way in the Pits he’d be believed. 

Bitstream blinked, looking supremely unimpressed with Soundwave’s excuse. “Soundwave, while I’m glad you’re still in there, I’ve worked with you long enough to know when you’re spitting out bullscrap. Red Wing, could you please take Soundwave to the medbay? I’ve still got stuff to do, unfortunately. If he dies I’m dumping the nightmarespawn cat on you.” Despite how harsh Bitstream’s voice was, Soundwave could feel the worry still coursing through the cyan and black jet’s mind

The red, black and white Seeker in question stood up and walked quickly over to Soundwave. Red Wing looked up at him, wings flittering back and forth awkwardly. Soundwave could sense concern from the nonbinary Seeker as well. The ground attack jet normally wasn't one to talk (much to Soundwave's chagrin) but right now, it seemed like everything wanted to make extra noise to go along with whatever was in his helm. 

“Nobody’s going to begrudge you for having a problem, sir.” Red Wing said, as if his problem was the simplest thing in the world. “Please go to the medics? I’m worried about you, Bits is worried about you, you’re obviously a bit hurt, so please just… go to the medics. They wouldn’t mind, I'm sure of it.” They gave a reassuring smile.

“What the only nice bot in this room said.” Bitstream chirped, gesturing at Red Wing. “Get to the damn medbay, Soundwave. Or go to Starscream, since he deals with Outlier bullscrap all the time. I’m sure he’ll understand what to do with magic Outlier telepathy helmaches or whatever. Oh, and you are not, under any circumstances, allowed to die or turn into a vegetable, got it you big oaf? We care about you, big guy.” 

“I don’t.” Radar called, not even looking up from his work.

“Shut up, Radar.” Bitstream then hissed something out in Vosian. Likely a curse word, considering the fact that Red Wing gasped in reaction. 

Soundwave sighed theatrically. “Fiiine, Bitsie. I’ll go get my aft checked up and get snapped at by The Scream because there’s quite literally nothing wrong with me at all, buddy ol Bits!” 

Bitstream continued to give Soundwave an unimpressed look. “You are possibly the worst liar I have ever met, Soundwave. If you don’t want to go to the medics or Starscream, I think Air Marshal Lyzack would enjoy hearing about this. Technically, as a flier, you’re under her jurisdiction. I know she’s also a good friend of yours.” Bitstream could be a little bastard, but this...

“Now you’re just blackmailing me, dude. Not cool.”

“I’m serious, she’s helped me through some stuff before. If this isn’t a medical problem, it’s an emotional one. There's also no shame in needing to talk to someone because of stress.” There was a howl as Bitstream activated his engines and floated up to be eye level with Soundwave. “I’m not gonna get off your case, buddy ol Soundy.” The black and cyan Seeker poked Soundwave’s fuselage, a smirk on his faceplates. “I can take over here while you’re gone. And I swear, Radar’ll be alive when you get back.”

Soundwave’s wings shifted in discomfort, as he tried to distract from the discomfort in his mind with physical movement. “Alright, Bitsie, you don’t need to convince me anymore. I’ll go to Starscream and get yelled at.” Soundwave’s helm twitched in response to the noises in his helm.

Bitstream nodded, flickers of worry still coming from him. “Okay, back to work everybody.” The Seeker floated back to the ground and returned to his desk, shooting one last look back at Soundwave.

That damned noise only seemed to grow louder and clearer the more Soundwave ignored it, and he knew Bitstream was as stubborn as a mountain. There was no squirming his way out of this one, or denying that there was a problem. “Shall we go get yelled at, Reddie?” Soundwave projected another smile onto his screenface, this one wavering a little. 

Hopefully The Scream wasn’t too busy...  


* * *

_Meanwhile, in the laboratory, Starscream, the Decepticon chief of applied sciences, was having a couple issues of his own, ones also related to Outliers. Today was just not his day… Oh mech, did he not know what was about to hit him…_

_\- Decepticon Information and Technology Specialist Bitstream_

White. 

Blinding white. 

He heard the sound of glass shattering— was it his cockpit? Starscream felt a bitter chill seep through his frame, as if it had been filled with ice. In a split second, that cold morphed to a scorching, frame-melting heat. Starscream felt like he was freezing and burning at the same time, as the deafening sounds of explosions and burning buildings mixing with the wailing of polar winds drowned out everything, even the Seeker’s own thoughts. There was the rumble of engines, and a voice that broke through the noise—

“Wake. Up.” 

The white and black Seeker’s optics shot open, and he felt like he was falling— and then his frame slammed into the cold laboratory floor. Starscream’s optics reset a handful of times as he processed the visual information his processor was so abruptly and rudely feeding him, and the sudden disconnect he’d had. There was no snow swallowing up everything. No fire burning through all he saw. Just... Thundercracker, looking down at him and offering him a clawed servo. The only sound he heard was his dear brother’s engines, rumbling in concern. No winds wailing a death-song. No explosions, roaring like thunder in his audials. Just his brother. Starscream shook his head to clear his jumbled processor, before grabbing his brother’s servo and letting the other jet pull him up. 

It was just another memory flux. He’d had them before. Nothing to worry over. Today would simply be a normal day.

“You fell asleep at your desk. Again.” Thundercracker commented gruffly, not even mentioning the nightmare. Starscream knew Thundercracker had felt it through their bond— Starscream certainly felt his brother’s concern washing over him through the bond, mixing in with distant comfort from Skywarp’s end. The blue Seeker didn’t mention what he felt, however. Thundercracker just checked Starscream’s frame over, grumbling at the paint scrapes he found. “Stop falling asleep in your lab. We have berths for a reason.” Ah, Thundercracker’s typical gruffness. Even through his brother’s growly tone, Starscream could hear fondness. 

In response, the white jet rolled his optics, sending through their bond reassurances that yes, he was alright. “Despite what you may believe, Thundercracker, I do not intentionally fall asleep at my workstation. I simply work too late and fall asleep.” Starscream stretched his wings, glancing at what he’d been working on the previous night.

“Then stop working late.” Thundercracker stated simply, his wings flicking. Seemingly satisfied that Starscream was fine (as if a mere fall could damage his armor), Thundercracker grabbed his brother’s shoulder and spun him around to face the rest of the lab. “I need you to do something.” 

“What is it—“ Starscream had barely even thought his question out before his optical sensors were bombarded with an array of searingly bright colors.

Oh. Oh no.

The Rainmakers. 

Always a lovely thing to deal with in the morning. Young Outliers with barely-restrained powers. Outliers were always a pleasant thing to deal with in the morning. 

The brightly colored Seekers in question were rummaging (borderline unsupervised!) through the lab, poking at or picking up anything that caught their interest. The three in question were Ion Storm, Nova Storm, and Acid Storm. These were the three biggest troublemakers on the Victory - no small feat, considering the fact that Fulcrum, Moonheart, and Blackout were all on board as well. These three technicolor gremlins had set his entire fragging lab on fire the last time they were inside it!

“Thundercracker, might I inquire as to why you have brought these three into my lab? Have you forgotten their previous... incidents in here?” Starscream whispered through gritted dentae, his optical ridges raising as he waited for whatever insane reason Thundercracker had brought the accident-prone disaster trio into an area they’d previously caused multiple explosions, several fires, and at least one incident of acid melting through the floor in. This reason had better be a good one, because if not, Shockwave'd be jumping up his aft about this. 

“They’re Outliers.” Thundercracker said plainly, as if that answered the question. As if to illustrate Thundercracker’s point, Acid Storm poked a digit into a vial of highly corrosive acid, commenting about how it tickled. Yes, they were Outliers, mecha with supersparks that granted them ridiculous abilities that only grew with age-

Right. Outliers' abilities grew with age. Both of Starscream’s brothers were outliers, as was he… technically. Outliers were the definition of abnormal, and frequently needed examinations. Nothing to worry about. Well, as long as they kept Nova Storm away from anything explosive. “What might they need?” Starscream asked, watching Ion Storm poke one of Shockwave’s experimental weapons from the corner of his optic.

“Spark examinations. Their powers are growing. Like Skywarp’s and mine did. I’m worried.” Thundercracker crossed his arms, emotion once again bleeding into his voice. 

“Since when did you become their caretaker?” Starscream chuckled lightly, turning to fetch the scanner from the storage panel on the wall. “While you’re watching your new wards, keep a lookout for Shockwave. He’ll rip my head off if he catches those three in here again. It was his invention that started the fire last time, if you recall.”

The blue and gray Seeker’s wings flicked indignantly. “I am n—“ Thundercracker began, before he closed his mouth, flaring his wings out defensively. Starscream gave a smile as a wave of grumpiness came from Thundercracker. “I’m just looking out for them. You know they’re the only Seeker sparklings left around.'

Starscream felt a pang of sorrow as he rummaged around in the storage panel, digging through datapads housing blueprints and old scraps of inventions. Starscream made a mental note to clean this damn place one of these days. When he finally pulled out the blasted thing, he immediately heard the metallic clang of something falling to the floor. “Shockwave is going to kill me.” Starscream muttered under his breath. Starscream turned around, internally screaming.

Inventing sharply, Starscream moved away from anything important or fragile. “Alright, all three of you, please stop touching things. Hurry over here, and please—“ the sound of whatever had dropped on the floor crunching underpede interrupted him “—try not to break anything...” he sighed. “Else.” 

The neon-bright trio practically trampled one another as they scampered over to Starscream, crowding around the larger jet, each of them chirping out question after question. 

Nova Storm piped up the loudest. “What’re we gonna do Screamy? Thundercracker mentioned an exam or something-” the pink and black jet was immediately cut off by his brother, Ion Storm.

“He said an examination, not an exam, dumbaft.” Ion Storm snapped at his pink sibling, wings hiking high into the air. “We’re probably sick or something. That’s what examinations are for- telling you what’s broken.” The black and gold Seeker said it like it was an obvious fact. 

“Ohhhh. I must’ve misheard.” Nova Storm didn’t seem fazed at all, his pink wings still fluttering with excitement. “What’s wrong with us then? Is Acid Storm gonna dissolve? Am I gonna disappear forever?” He sounded alarmingy excited about that last outcome. 

“You’re both wrong.” Acid Storm piped up, but was ignored by his brothers.

Thundercracker glanced at Ion Storm, who looked quite proud of himself for correcting his brother. “Ion Storm, don’t be rude to your brother. And where’d you learn to swear?”

Ion Storm pouted. “But I wasn’t being rude! And I’m no snitch, so I’m most certainly not telling you.”

“It was Fulcrum. Wasn’t it.” Thundercracker sighed. “First he starts a fight, now he’s teaching the sparklings to curse.” 

Starscream sighed, dragging his palm down his face. “Please just shush and let me scan you. And before you ask, no, it does not require your spark being bared.” As the eyebleeder trio lined up, Starscream pointed the scanner at them.

The scanner clicked on, red light sweeping over each of the three Seeker’s chests, beeping each time it finished a scan. ONce the examination was over, the data was projected onto a little holoscreen, pulled up beside the data from previous scans.

“Well, you three’s sparks are growing in power-”

“Are we gonna explode?” Nova Storm asked, tilting his helm in curiosity. 

“-No, this is entirely normal for Outliers such as yourselves. Your abilities grow as you age. I assume these three have been getting far more destructive lately, Thundercracker?” Starscream asked, quirking an eyebrow ridge.

Thundercracker nodded. “Yeah. Acid Storm’s been dissolving things by accident. Ion Storm blew up three computers by touching them. I think Nova Storm got stuck in a wall yesterday.”

Starscream chuckled. “Seems we’ll have another Skywarp on our claws soon, this time in pink.” He felt a burst of nostalgia. When Skywarp’s powers had first gone on a development spree, he’d been warping into walls every time his thoughts drifted. Seems Nova Storm would be phasing through things every time he lost focus. Once Nova got the hang of it, he'd be capable of doing some pretty amazing things. Unlike... well, Starscream.

“But none of us can teleport? How would we have another Skywarp?” Nova Storm sounded quite confused, the black and neon pink jet glancing at his brothers, looking for an answer. “I don’t get it.”

Ion Storm opened his mouth, his expression already condescending, before Acid Storm abruptly clapped his servo over his brother’s mouth. 

“Nova Storm, he means that we’ll have another Outlier who’ll get stuck in the walls every day.” Thundercracker’s voice was soft. “Ion Storm, I already told you not to do that.”

Ion Storm’s wings flicked in irritation, a burst of electricity ran from the base of his wings to their tips, before dancing back and forth between his wings. As the gold and black Seeker crossed his arms once again, charge raced through his frame, making his frame’s biolights brighten.

Acid Storm covered his optics, grumbling. “We get it, you’re pissy. No need to blind us!”

Starscream’s optics widened. Just a scant few years ago all Ion Storm could conjure were flickers… They were developing quite quickly.

"Curious..." Starscream said, though he fast regretted saying that. 

Ion Storm’s plating flared out in frustration. “I’m not mad!” The charge lingering in his frame flared out with it, shooting out in all directions. Starscream shrieked in alarm, grabbing Nova Storm and Acid Storm’s arms and pulling them being him. Fortunately, due to Starscream’s armor, only a handful of systems would glitch due to the electricity 

Thundercracker didn’t seem all that fazed, even as a burst of lightning. “That’s certainly a lttz-lightshow.” The blue and gray Seeker commented, his vocalizer glitching a bit.

Starscream nodded. “Yes, certainly a lightshow-” His arm twitched a little. 

Acid Storm poked his helm out from behind Starscream. “Ion Storm, you did it again! Now two bots are glitching all over the place!” The black and green bot cried. “Learn some Unicron-damned self-control!”

Ion Storm hissed at his brother, wings flaring out once again. “I can’t control it! You can’t control it either, and neither can Nova Storm, so don’t jump up my aft about this!” The black and yellow jet was cut off by a howl from Thundercracker’s enginges.

“Both of you, quit it.” Thundercracker barked, his wings flared. “I won’t have you two insulting one another. I’m sorry, Starscream. I thought they’d at least try to behave.” The dark blue and gray jet sighed. “You three, come with me. Let’s leave Star be.”

The three younger jets trailed Thundercracker, Ion Storm glancing around for someone to blame, Acid Storm looking downcast, and Nova Storm glancing back at Starscream, giving a tiny wave goodbye. When the door shut behind them, Starscream flopped down in his seat, his vents letting out a long hiss.

“Well, that was a disaster.” He grumbled to no-one but himself. Outliers… everything seemed to go wrong with them. Mecha born with fiery red sparks, and gifted or cursed with world-shaking abilities. Starscream should have been one of them.

His spark was red, with an output level that was nearly above the correct ranges for Outlier supersparks, but… he couldn’t do anything. No abilities, nothing. If he was being honest, he would enjoy being powerless, if it meant he didn’t have to deal with all the craziness associated with being one. But, it spilled over to him either way. He was a fluke, helping others with their powers. Starscream would be lying if he said it didn't frustrate him a little bit. Starscream sent a pulse of reassurance across the bond when he felt guilt bleed over from Thundercracker’s end. A smile crossed his face, glad that his brother was there for him. 

Then, he heard the door to the lab whoosh open. Oh no, oh no. Did they need something else? 

“Please don’t tell me Ion Storm killed someone…” Starscream sighed, turning around, only to be met with the mono-opticed face of Soundwave.

The jet gave an awkward wave with his claws. “Heyyy Screams! How’s it going down here, down where all the nerd stuff happens?” His voice sounded strained, and his optic was twitching. Red Wing stood awkwardly by his side, the nonbinary jet flicking out a greeting in Wingspeak.

“Please don’t tell me your powers are acting up.” Starscream looked up at Soundwave, a tired expression on his faceplates. “Soundwave, I’m begging you.”

“How’d ya know, Scream-bean?” Soundwave projected a smile on his facescreen.  
Starscream sucked in air harshly through his vents, standing up. “What is it, and why are you here, Red Wing?”

Red Wing piped up. “Bitstream asked me to take Soundwave here, to make sure he actually went. You know... how he…” they trailed off, their wings flicking awkwardly. 

“How I get when it comes to labs and medbays, yeah yeah.” Soundwave grumbled. “I’m not being strapped down this time, and I don’t think Screamsie’s one to be hacking off body parts, so you really don’t need to worry ‘bout that, Reddie.”

“Is there an actual issue, or did you just a newfound preference for morbid humor?” Starscream asked. Was Soundwave okay?

“My… processor. It’s.. y’know how I have that funky telepathy stuff? Weell, it went and broke.” Soundwave said. "I need some help, if you can provide?"

“It what?” Starscream raised an eyebrow ridge. “Are you no longer an Outlier?”

Soundwave shook his helm. “Nope, I can still read your mind - also, by the way, Screamer, you really need to take in some good vibes sometime, you are grumpy as hell - but there’s this… noise thing. In my mind. It’s not a thought, well, I don’t think it’s one, but it’s there and it’s getting louder and kiiiiiiinda driving me insane? So, flyentist, know what this might be?” Soundwave's voice was full of forced calm and desperation.

Starscream’s optics narrowed. “What are you hearing? Have you been able to block it out?” The Seeker’s wings began to flitter in concern when he realized Soundwave’s helm had claw marks in it. Something was seriously wrong. “Soundwave, I’m not sure if I can help you, but I’ll damn well try. Can you block this sound out?” Starscream's processor was racing, searching for potential possibilities or solutions. He was a scientist, and he was a damn good one. Soundwave needed help, and Starscream would do his best.

Soundwave chuckled. “I tried, really fraggin hard, but I kinda sorta failed? Horribly?” Soundwave let out a strained and forced laugh. “I don’t know what I can do and it’s getting louder-” Soundwave’s claws flew to his helm. “It feels like- like something’s pawing through my damn processor.” Despite how nonchalant the mech tried to appear, Starscream knew he must be terrified. 

Starscream’s spark sunk into his tanks, replaced by a swirling mess of fear. This situation required a delicate hand- and time had only sharpened Starscream’s talons. While kindness had once come naturally to him, it did no longer. “Soundwave, it feels like something is going... through your processor?” Starscream tried to speak slowly and evenly. It would be of no use to anyone if he lost what little cool he had, and Soundwave likely would appreciate Starscream remaining calm. “Do you think that there could be... another telepath around here?”

Soundwave’s single optic shrank in annoyance. “I’m the only one! Dont’cha think I’d know if th-there’s someone else who can read minds here?!” Soundwave snapped, his wings flaring out. “I’d have probably been told! And this sure isn’t something that’s attempting to have a friendly chat! This is a Unicron-forsaken noise that’s practically scraping the very walls of my helm!”

“Sorry for giving a suggestion!” Starscream growled in reply, immediately regretting his decision. “I’m suggesting possibilities- I’m as confused as you are!” He then invented, calming himself. It was a foolish decision to snap at Soundwave- he was obviously just confused and stressed. “I’m sorry for snapping at you, Soundwave. I shouldn’t have done that. Can we both just… remain calm?”

“Sure! Fine! I’ll be chill and groovy over here while it feels like some unidentified noise is poking through my brain! Completely calm over here, no concern in the slightest!” Soundwave hissed. “I knew I shouldnt’ve come here, there’s nothing you or anyone else can prolly do.” The jet grumbled, crossing his arms.

“Hey!” Red Wing piped up. “Soundwave, sir, you said there’s a presence in your mind, right? Don’t you read others’ minds often… sir?” The tricolor jet said, their voice somewhat quiet.

Starscream blinked. “Thank you for stating the obvious, Red Wing. Your input is greatly appreciated.” The white and black jet snapped, internally berating himself for for failing to keep his emotions in check. “You finally pipe up for once and it’s to say this- wait, hold on. When you read another mech’s mind, properly do it I mean, isn’t that effectively the same as ‘pawing through it’?”

Soundwave nodded impatiently, optic twitching. “Are both of ya just gonna say the obvious?!”

“Has anyone ever… frag, how do I phrase this without sounding like ‘m talking about mnemosurgery… forced you out of their mind?” Starscream asked.

Soundwave nodded. “Yeah… yeah, it’s happened before. I was always on the other end, though…”

“That, that might actually work…” Soundwave froze, his single optic widening. 

“Soundwave? Soundwave?” Starscream asked, his wings flittering back and forth anxiously. Red Wing’s optics widened, and the ground attack Seeker turned to Starscream for an answer.

The stealth jet didn’t respond, he didn’t even seem to hear Starscream. Soundwave’s single optic wavered, and his frame began to tremble.

“Remember, stay calm.” Starscream said this more for himself than for the other Seeker. “Stay calm.” Starscream’s spark was spinning, swirling and writhing around in his chest. What if this caused a serious issue with Soundwave’s spark? Starscream was a scientist first and foremost, he knew that Outliers’ abilities were linked to their sparks, in fact they came from them. Supersparks like Soundwave (and… his own) were tinted a violent crimson due to their abilities. Strain of the powers would likely cause strain of the spark… which could severely damage or kill Soundwave. Starscream’s vents sucked in air, desparately trying to cool his panicking frame. What if Soundwave offlined? What if his mind was permanently ruined? What if his memories were erased- no, no...

Stay. Calm. Panicking only got mecha killed. Starscream knew that all too well.

“Stay calm…” He mumbled once again, as Soundwave trembled more, his plating rattling. 

Like a sparkling’s toy with its supports cut, Soundwave crumpled. Despite being so much smaller than him, Red Wing quickly caught the stealth jet, and helped by Starscream, they lowered him to the ground. Acting quickly, in a blur of motion, Starscream grabbed the spark scanner once again.

“Red Wing, grab the scan cable and pad on the wall there and jack it into Soundwave’s neck port. Do not tell me I need to show y-” Starscream was cut off by the scans appearing. Soundwave’s spark output was fluctuating rapidly, flaring and flickering. 

“Sir, his processor is, to put it politely, a mess.” Red Wing said, their voice quiet. “There are two sets of readings, one that… isn’t even Cybertronian.” The nonbinary Seeker showed Starscream the readings. One set was clearly Soundwave’s, his processor’s readings quite high, characteristic of stressed processors and high emotion. The second set was off the charts- only the lowest readings on it even came close to what Soundwave, a telepath, displayed. 

There was another presence in the mind of their only telepath.

Red Wing looked up at Starscream, swallowing a lump in their throat. “Sir,” the Seeker said, their voice was wavering. “Do you know what’s happening to him?”

Starscream clenched his talons. “No, Red Wing. I don’t.”

That’s when the doors slammed, and the lights across the Victory cut out, leaving everyone in total darkness. 

Just as everything went black, all the screens in the room lit up, strange and foreign glyphs flashing across their screens, casting an eerie light over the bots inside.


	2. Outliers — Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait! I’ve been busy with school and editing this monstrosity (as well as working on other stuff, such as art for Mirror Mirror, designs, one-shots, worldbuilding, etc etc. Several more one-shots and possibly a collection of little shorts will go up soon, if my motivation keeps chugging along properly. Yet again, very sorry for the long wait.
> 
> If you want more content, worldbuilding for this AU, or to see the art and character designs, go look at the blog for it. I also suggest you check out other fan-continuities, as there’s a whole bunch of us out there (Rise of the Radiotrons, Seibatoron No Atarashi Puraimu, Autobots Roll Out!, Earthling, Rouge Seeker, and Transformers: Metal Force are all very good ones!)
> 
> Now, on to the chapter!

_Across the ship, lights have been going off, doors have been slamming shut, and screens have been projecting Unicron knows what in some mysterious old language. Soundwave is down for the count, Starscream is panicking, Red Wing is out of their depth, aaaaand everything going on around the ship is a disaster. Now, let’s return to the tale, shall we?_

* * *

Elsewhere on the ship, in a hallway, an orange and black biplane glared up at a massive stormy blue and icy gray helicopter, his wings flared out and plating puffed up. 

“If you think I’ll let you get away with calling me that, you bitchy oversized pile of scrap metal, think again.” The biplane hissed.

The helicopter’s optics rolled, and the biplane only got angrier. The lights in the ship flickered, before giving out entirely, casting everything in black.

“I’m gonna rip those optics right out of your helm-- hey, who cut the lights?” He practically squawked in anger. “Not funny!”

* * *

Just below the flight deck, a black and fiery orange helicopter adjusted her lights. “What in the pit? Did the lights just decide to give up the ghost?” She tilted her helm, the helicopter blades that hung over her shoulders twitching. 

From the room that housed the control terminal and its display screens, a bizarre light flashed. She rolled her optics, and headed towards the terminal. 

“Hotlink, I swear to Unicron, if this is some sort of ‘spooky’ prank, I’m finding the ringleader and shoving a grenade somewhere they won’t like.” She growled, peeking her helm into the room, seeing… something strange flash across the screens. “What in the…?”

* * *

A purple and gray Seeker strode through the halls, a shining blade at her hip. Fliers parted to let her pass. But when the lights cut, she halted, hand flying to the hilt of her weapon. 

A mech beside her let out a noise of alarm, and a much younger one jumped in surprise. Her face softened, and she gave a reassuring smile, biolights kicking up. Mecha whispered, muttering amongst each other about what just happened. The younger jet, colored a dark navy and crisp white, glanced around in fright. 

“What if it’s— an attack? Or— some form of sabotage?” He whispered. 

“It’ll be alright. Likely just a glitch.” Her voice was soft, almost unbefitting her frame — which was built for war. “Stay by me, okay?” She said to the younger jet. “If it is something worse, I’ll be right here, sword at the ready. If there is something frightening prowling our halls, some light stabbing should take care of it.”

* * *

A dark mech stood at the edge of a room, watching it fall into chaos. His face betrayed no emotion, and his optics were hidden by a visor. A long and sleek rifle was slung over his shoulder as he stared.

Mecha chattered, one kicked at the door — which did not budge in the slightest. The room had been orderly and calm not a minute or two ago, and then all hell had broken loose when the lights cut, the screens blasted insanity, and the door closed on them.

He simply stood, watching the Air Commander try to coordinate the chaos. His optics narrowed behind the deep blue visor he wore, but he did not move.

* * *

Everything was fine, if a bit tense, then everything went pitch black. Immediately after, the screens turned on, light bathing everyone in the room.

Radar stood sharply, letting out a loud curse.

Bitstream’s gaze was fixed on the screens, fear in his optics as they flashed and played a loop of something he couldn’t read. He immediately did a search through his datafiles, but could not match it to... any language he recognized. Right after this, he sent a comm. ping to Soundwave.

No answer.

He sent another. Nothing. 

“Has someone commed Soundwave?!” A voice cried.

“I have!” Someone else called. “No response.”

“Nothing from me either.” Radar hissed. “I think he’s off napping. Or fraggin’ braindead.” The plane crossed his arms. “Or playing a fun little prank.”

Voices rose up, a loud chatter filling the room.

Bitstream’s spark gave a panicked twist. Were his siblings okay? He felt them through the bond, safe... was Soundwave okay?

Dead silence.

Was Red Wing okay? He commed them.

Nothing. 

A voice cut through everything.

“The door! It’s jammed—“

Bitstream’s spark sunk into his guts.

* * *

_Now I understand if transitioning so abruptly from that rather dramatic scene is a bit shocking, but there are other things going on in the now-lightless Victory, so allow me to shift your attention to Thundercracker and the little demon Outliers he’s ado- err, I mean the Rainmakers, who had their own cryptic troubles to face… Wait, hang on, why don’t the mechs Soundwave left behind get more? Oh? We’re only focusing on the Outliers? Fine, fine. Hmph. I’d better not have to narrate Fulcrum’s bullscrap soon. Moving on…_

Getting the Rainmakers to do anything was like herding Cybercats. Especially when you factored their abilities into the mix. Thundercracker was unaware of how he developed a fondness for them, but he did, and here he was.

Stuck with three young Outliers in a dark hallway.

And the doors were all locked.

Fun.

Thundercracker could see plenty in the dark, but he didn’t know how developed the trio’s optic sensors were (in his defense, he was onlined in an adult body) so he powered on his biolights, casting a Winglords’ blue glare over the Rainmakers.

Nova Storm nodded his head, as if confirming an assumption he’d made. “I knew it! Ion Storm really mucked it up this time, that’s for sure!” The purple mech chirped. 

“Did not.” Ion Storm turned his own lights on, a bright cyan light helping to illuminate their surroundings. “The ship just had a glitch, dumbaft.” 

Thundercracker grumbled. “Glitches don’t get this big.” He said bluntly. 

“So it’s not a glitch and we’re all gonna die?” Nova Storm asked, his big optics wide with curiosity. “Because if it isn’t simply a glitch that means it’s inten.. Intention… done on purpose! Which means someone is doing a sabotage on purpose, and we’re on the flagship, which means someone is doing a sabotage on the flagship on purpose. Getting rid of all the lights and locking the doors seems like there’s gonna be a murder. So, we’re all gonna die?” The Seeker tilted his helm. 

“Probably.” Thundercracker replied plainly, before realizing that wasn’t the wisest thing to say. “Not.” He quickly added, forcing a reassuring tone into his voice. 

Acid Storm pressed a little bit closer to Thundercracker. 

Nova Storm scratched his chin, walking around. “Who could possibly fix something like this? Hotlink? Megatron?”

“What’d buckethead do? Lecture the doors open? Chastise the lights back on?” Ion Storm snapped. “He doesn’t do scrap every other time, what makes you think he’d do anything now?”

Thundercracker crossed his arms, unsure of what to do. The comment about Megatron… he didn’t want to think about that right now, lest he say something he shouldn’t in front of the younger ones. Keep going down the halls? Find an open door? Contact someone? As if to echo his own concern, Thundercracker felt a wave of stark and confusion bleed over from Starscream’s end of the bond. He was likely stuck in a dark lab with Shockwave. Not an ideal scenario. Thundercracker sent some reassurance back across it, and sent a pulse of it to Skywarp as well. He’d likely need it too. 

Hopefully neither of them would need him.

“Waitwaitwait! Soundwave! He’s in charge of a lot of stuff like that? Shouldn’t he know what to do?” Nova Storm’s wings flickered. “Let’s ask him! Or, you can. You’re the grown mech.”

Thundercracker nodded. “Alright. You three, whatever we do, stay by me.” The Seeker growled, his blue wings flicking. If he lost them, Nova Storm would wind up doing his vomp thing through the floor. Then he’d land on someone. That wouldn’t be pleasant for anyone involved. And there was the likelihood they could be hurt, which sent his tanks flipping. He knew Starscream and Skywarp could take care of themselves, but the Rainmakers were far younger. “I’ll keep you three safe.”

The three jets nodded in unison, and Thundercracker was soon swarmed by them. Three pairs of optics stared up at him, and three pairs of wings were flittering in alarm.

Thundercracker onlined his comms, hoping that the fear filling his tanks was his own, not Starscream’s. ::Soundwave, this is Wing Commander Thundercracker. Do you copy?::

No response. Did this growing dread belong to Starscream? Or himself? It was often difficult to tell what emotions were his own and what emotions came from the bond, bleeding through from one of his brothers. It’d been like that since they were onlined, and emotion

::Soundwave, do you copy? Hello?:: Thundercracker growled into his comms, shoving away his fear and replacing it with gruffness. 

Silence. Dead silence. 

Thundercracker clenched his talons, his engines giving a frustrated snarl. “Soundwave isn’t responding. Here’s to hoping he’s taking a nap.” 

“What if he’s dead?” 

“Nova!”

Thundercracker opened his bond fully, feeling an even greater wave of fear rush in from Starscream. The large Seeker sent a tentative question over the bond… ‘Starscream,’ he asked over it, ‘are you alright? Do you need me?’

Starscream’s response was laced with frustration and fear. ‘Thundercracker, Soundwave’s out of action. Something is messing with his processor, he’s not responding, the doors won’t open- where are you and are you safe, brother?’ 

‘Yes, I am.’ Thundercracker responded quickly over the bond. ‘Are you safe? I don’t care about Soundwave,’ that came off a little blunt, but he didn’t care. ‘Are you alright?’

‘Yes, I’m fine. Things are flashing across the screens of the room in languages I can’t read, the doors won’t open, trust me I’ve tried, and I’m locked in with a terrified Red Wing and a catatonic Soundwave, but other than that I’m as the humans would say, peachy.’ The sentences were practically strung together with fear, frustration and stress. Words over a bond were always laced with emotion, as emotion practically made up half the communication done via sparkbonds. Starscream always tried to keep his on a leash, but right now he wasn’t even putting in a smidge of effort. Thundercracker felt waves and waves of uncontrolled and unbottled emotion. 

Feeling someone else’s fear in conjunction with his own was not a pleasant experience, but Thundercracker had more pressing things to worry about than disliking an experience. 

‘Starscream, there are words on the screens?’ Thundercracker asked, his own confusion likely seeping over across to Starscream. ‘In…’

‘Languages that dont’t even look like readable modern Cybertronian, yes. The same message, over and over again. Thundercracker, wherever you are, don’t bother to investigate. Find somewhere safe and hunker down, I don’t know what in Unicron’s name is happening.’

Thundercracker was about to protest, slight annoyance at being told what to do by his brother welling up (even if the advice was sound and was what he was considering doing anyway), before he noticed Acid Storm looking up at him, very much unsure of what to do.

‘Fine.’ He closed his end of the communication, but left it open enough for Starscream to send something through if he needed to. 

“Did you talk to Air Commander Skywarp?” Acid Storm asked hopefully. “Does he know what’s going on?” The black and green jet glanced around, bright cyan biolights kicking up a few notches.

Based on the feelings of confusion and stress coming in from Skywarp, no. No he did not. And it was likely best not to interrupt him. 

“No. I don’t either. Neither does Starscream.” Thundercracker said in his usual blunt as a rock tone. “Soundwave is catatonic.” The Seeker blurted out. 

“Doesn’t that mean dead?” 

“No. He might be dead though.” Thundercracker probably should have been as concerned about Soundwave’s health as he was Starscream’s, or half as concerned about what was happening to the telepath as he was concerned with the Rainmakers, but he was not. “Starscream told us to find somewhere safe.”

“So something is coming to kill us all! I was right!” Nova Storm puffed out his chest proudly. 

Acid Storm whimpered in fear. Whether it was aimed at their situation, Soundwave, or his brother’s pride in his conclusion, Thundercracker didn’t know. 

“Thundercracker, the doors are locked…” Acid Storm’s wings were a blur of terrified fluttering. He at least wasn’t making acid. That would make everything a significant bit worse. “What’ll we do?” 

Thundercracker pointed at Nova Storm. “We have someone who’s spark doesn’t care about the laws of physics. And also doesn’t care about the solidity of objects.”

* * *

_Now after this brief intermission, we return to Starscream, my catatonic friend, and the best bot, Red Wing. No, I do not have a crush on them. I swear. I hold zero romantic feelings for him, do not believe Fulcrum. Or Soundwave. Or Nightbird. They are all liars. So, unreadable glyphs were flashing across the screens…_

Letters, strange and foreign, dominated the screens in the room. The glyphs were swooping, curved and complex, not unlike Old Vosian, but arranged in a way that was utterly foreign to Red Wing. The symbols flashed, overlaid above one another dozens of times, static overtaking patches of the screen. It was the exact same sentence, over and over, and over again. Was this some hack? A message being broadcast? Any possibility of this being a glitch was out the window entirely, careening towards the ground in a death spiral. Anxiety welled up within Red Wing, as they tried to force themself to stay calm. 

Why did it have to be him in this situation? 

Red Wing tore their focus from the screens, looking to Starscream.

“Sir?” Red Wing asked. “What do we do?” The Seeker hoped Starscream had some answer, any answer. Starscream outranked Red Wing by a ridiculous degree, and Red Wing didn’t have the knowledge nor authority to do anything right now. Starscream and them were in a distressing mess. 

Said distressing mess they were in seemed to be growing worse and worse by the second. Bitstream was blowing up Red Wing’s comms, Soundwave was still unconscious, glyphs were still flashing across the screens, and Red Wing was beginning to panic even more than they already were! Abruptly, Red Wing’s comms pinged.

::Red Wing! Are you alright? Please tell me you’re okay.:: Bitstream asked over the comms, his voice shaky. ::None of the computers are working and none of us can connect without jacking in, and none of us r-really wanna do that. There are weird fragging words on them, and I’m scared out of my mind. Are you okay? Is Soundwave okay? He’s not answering my comms and I don’t know what to do!::

Red Wing’s spark lurched. Bitstream was scared, and Red Wing could barely imagine what the others must be feeling. Suddenly, everything would have gone dark, they’d be locked in… they wouldn’t even have the tiny, miniscule amount of context that Red Wing and Starscream had. 

::Yes on the first count, on the second, no.:: Red Wing whispered into their comm. ::Bitstream, Soundwave is down for the count and I won’t be able to leave here unless the doors unlock. You’re in charge of the rest of the techies. Don’t kill Radar no matter how irritating he gets.:: Red Wing tried (and failed miserably) to insert some degree of levity into what he was saying (comedy was never their strongsuit), to hopefully calm Bitstream.

::Red Wing! You’re scaring me! Also why is it that you become the most talkative during a crisis? I’d much more appreciate this newfound loquaciousness manifesting itself when I’m asking you about your day instead of when everything is going to hell!:: They heard some mumbling over the comms, likely coming from Radar. At least the others were safe… Red Wing couldn’t say the same for himself.

“Comming your crush?” Starscream asked, his posture portraying his emotions plain as day - most plainly, his fear. Red Wing’s venting sped up. Red Wing would have liked to say they weren’t easily influenced, but right now, seeing Starscream’s fear sent a spike of anxiety through his processor. 

“No- Yes. Why is that important, sir?” Red Wing asked. Normally, they’d be more than a little embarrassed about someone bringing up their feelings, but right now, they didn’t really care. There were more important things to be concerned about than their embarrassment, and a higher-ranking officer was speaking to them, to boot.

“You’re both modified for cyber warfare. You know? You have those- those data cables? The ones that allow you to interface with technology?” Starscream spoke quickly, stuttering and stumbling over words, yet still managing to talk as if Red Wing was unaware of this. Red Wing felt a bit insulted, but knew that this was likely the stress talking, and of course they knew to silence their vocalizer when a mech above their rank was speaking. But… what they were talking about gave Red Wing a bad feeling. Bright, harsh lights from the flashing screens bathed Starscream’s frame, and Red Wing’s tanks began to sink. No, this couldn’t be about what they thought it was about. No. “And visualize it? Those ones? I’m not misremembering?” Starscream’s wings were twitching, pressed close to his back. 

“You are not misremembering, sir.” Red Wing answered plainly, trying to keep the fear out of their voice. They reset their vocalizer, optics trained on Starscream’s face. Their tank must be in their pedes by now, if Bitsie was narrating, he’d probably say they were somewhere above Red Wing’s thrusters. His spark was sinking too.

“And Bitstream is in the main computer room? The one that controls all other systems?” Starscream said, as if he was hoping for Red Wing to voice the conclusion themself. 

Red Wing’s tanks sunk lower still. They were sure the things were in the tips of their thrusters now. What would happen if a bot jacked into these computers? When they used their cables to connect, they were in the system, interfacing with it seamlessly, as if they were inside the computer themselves. A bot could see the data perfectly, upload and download it to their own personal drives… It would be easy to see the problem, and trace it, but… no. It would be too dangerous, Red Wing knew that. Normally, viruses couldn’t be transmitted unwillingly, but this was something much bigger. 

Something that might crawl into someone’s systems.

Starscream fidgeted with the scanner that he was still holding, his ailerons and canards flittering. “I’m afraid I have to ask you to get one of those mecha to jack into the system, see what’s going on. It might-”

Red Wing closed their optics for a second. They couldn’t do this, there was no way. They’d be asking one of their friends to jack into this corrupted system, and expose themselves to Unicron knows what… Red Wing could never bring themselves to ask that of them. They had no idea what was happening to the computer systems, what was in them- someone jacking in could be inviting that thing into their damn processor. Red Wing wanted to scream at Starscream, slap the mech for even suggesting that, but… they didn’t have many other choices. Red Wing kept silent. This was a higher ranking officer, and this was practically an order. Who were they to tell him no?

Starscream’s wings drooped like dead plants, the tricolor jet sighing. “If I had the capability, I’d be doing this slag myself, but I don’t. We need to figure out what’s going on- the doors are locked, the lights are off, we don’t know why this is happening or what’s flashing on the screens, and we have to figure this out somehow. I don’t see many other opt-”

Red Wing opened their mouth to protest, but realized that Starscream was indeed right… and if they commed their fellow cyber warfare experts… They knew Bitstream was the likeliest to do it, the reckless mech would practically jack in immediately if given the order. Bitstream was prone to rash decisions when it came to technology, and Red Wing wouldn’t risk whatever the hell was in these computers crawling into Bitstream’s systems. Wouldn’t want to risk losing him. Starscream was sadly right. There… didn’t seem to be that many other options. Somebody would have to jack in. Red Wing wanted to scream in protest, but they kept their vocalizer shut off. The Seeker checked their comms, seeing more pings from Bitstream… before making a decision.

“I’ll do it.” Red Wing said plainly and quietly, standing up. There was a hiss of hydraulics as their data cables slipped out from between their wings. Bitstream was still comming them. “Where are the ports in this computer?” This was a bad idea. Starscream knew that. Red Wing knew that. If they didn’t end up catatonic like Soundwave, they’d never hear the end of it from Bitstream. Starscream watched them, optics round with soon-to-appear guilt. Red Wing could see it on his face. Frag, if there was any other option, Red Wing would gladly be doing it, but unless the computers were going to get themselves un-glitched, and the doors were going to get themselves unlocked, this was it. As Bitstream would say… on a scale of one to fragged, they were likely going to be exceedingly, ridiculously fragged. 

So, sticking their cables in a possessed computer. That wasn’t what they’d thought they’d be doing back when they’d first had these modifications done upon completing their training. 

Well. Seems they were going in.

Red Wing’s cables slithered forward, and the Seeker invented once, and then twice, cool air rushing into their vents. This was for the cause, for Soundwave, for everyone on the ship. They had to remind themself of this to keep their growing dread at bay. Two of their cables plugged into the computer’s ports with a barely audible click. As the Seeker jacked in, the outer world faded away into black, before their vision was assaulted by an array of colors and an overwhelming influx of data and images.

Glyphs, visuals from outside the ship, feelings of confusion- fear- desperation. These feelings were- they weren’t their own, they were from somewhere else- something else. Red Wing felt a burst of panic well within them, twisting around in their tanks and clouding their already tangled thoughts. There was too much happening in their mind, too much to focus on, too much to comprehend, it was unbearable, incomprehensible and rapidly becoming painful. Colors and signs flashed across their HUD, accompanied by a barrage of error and warning messages. These warned Red Wing that there was too much data pouring into their systems, and that there was a danger of sensory overload. Even more foreign emotions bled through into their processor, getting clearer and clearer. In poured a feeling of frustration, an inability to communicate or articulate oneself, as if one was talking to someone who wasn’t understanding the obvious. Red Wing’s spark sunk. These weren’t their thoughts, this didn’t come from them.

A wave of helplessness, a flash of impotent rage coming from some other being, their feelings being pushed forcefully into Red Wing’s mind. All of this overwhelming data and feedback was accompanied by a louder-than-thunder noise that blanked out all of Red Wing’s thoughts, drowning them out like they were tiny flakes of metal in a vast ocean. The thing they felt the emotions of pouring into their mind was also poring through their mind. The Seeker felt their hard drives being accessed, the on-processor datafiles he had being opened and viewed by this foreign presence. When the realization of just what was being done to them hit Red Wing, a wave of their own fear crashed over them.

The thing in his mind was looking for something. Soundwave had described- Soundwave had described this same feeling- something was looking for something in their damn mind. This- this couldn’t be happening, this wasn’t happening, Red Wing wasn’t an Outlier, they weren’t a telepath- this couldn’t be happening to them. It made no sense- how could jacking into a computer let something into his mind? Unless that thing had somehow inhabited or come to control the computer, this made no sense.

The sound then abruptly changed, as if shifting between languages, still loud and overwhelming and unbearable, but changing and shifting, becoming worse and worse as Red Wing’s processor struggled to keep up. Was Red Wing about to undergo what made Soundwave catatonic? 

Were they going to offline?

“Red Wing!” Starscream. That was Starscream. He was shouting loud enough to cause his vocalizer to glitch, yet somehow barely audible. Was he in Red Wing’s processor as well? No… he was distant, far away. Outside it. Outside what was happening. So quiet, barely a whisper to Red Wing, but judging by the static in his voice, he was screaming dangerously loudly.

::Red Wing?! Red Wing! Respond!:: Bitstream, over the comms. Something else outside. His voice was demanding and terrified, or… or did the voice in their mind sound like that instead? Red Wing didn’t know. It was all blurring together. 

So this was what Soundwave had experienced, this is what Soundwave functioned through until the sheer force of it knocked him out. The noise kept changing, until it became- it became a strange voice, a voice Red Wing could understand, could comprehend, loud and in their mind and confusing-

“Can you hear me?” It asked, booming like thunder, like an explosion, the full force of the emotion behind it ripping through Red Wing’s processor. It was a horrible experience, close to what Red Wing imagined physical pain would feel like- like a bomb going off inside his head. It was all too much, too much going on and too much of an experience and in an act of self-preservation, Red Wing decided to flee this experience.

Red Wing harshly tore their cables free from the computer’s ports, crumpling to the floor just as Soundwave had done. Their processor was suddenly clear, but they were still so disoriented… the lights and colors and data they had seen while jacked in were gone so abruptly, and the noise was entirely gone, it felt like total sensory deprivation compared to the sensory hell they’d just been put through. Being jerked from everything to nothing. Everything was so quiet. He reset his optics a few times. A shape registered above them, black, red and white… Starscream!

Starscream was kneeling over them, shaking the other Seeker. “Red Wing! Please, for the love of- tell me you are alive!” The Seeker’s shrieky voice was laced with static, glitching out with how loud he was shouting. He still sounded so far away… everything felt so far away...

::Red Wing! Red Wing! Please don’t tell me you ended up like Soundwave- or got hurt- Please, please answer me, Red! Everything’s fixed now! What happened!?:: Another voice, Bitstream’s, shaky and terrified, filled Red Wing’s audials. Everything was so bright, the lights really were fixed. They were blinding now. 

Red Wing shook their head, vents letting out a hiss. They were… out? Their processor felt scattered. Like someone had shaken it around and rearranged the contents like it was a sparkling’s toybox. The Seeker tried to push themself up, optics resetting over and over again. They still saw those glyphs across their vision, the memory of what they saw replaying in their processor. He still didn’t know what they meant, what they were. 

“Red Wing, talk to me. What did you see?” Starscream asked, voice still staticky from having been screaming. The Seeker’s wings moved rapidly, almost like a flitterfly’s, and his Winglord blue optics were focused intently on Red Wing. “Are you alright?” The jet asked, checking them over for injuries or wounds from the fall. The Seeker’s optics were wide in concern, and his wings flittered out words, begging silently for Red Wing to be alright. Red Wing didn’t understand why Starscream was so concerned over them, and was about to ask why. 

Red Wing attempted to open their mouth, but nothing came out. 

“Whhhhaaaat happened…” A voice came from behind both of them. Soundwave was awake, thank Unicron.

The massive jet sat up shakily, and looked around, his single optic examining the room. Everything was back to normal, the lights were on, but the computers were blank… Red Wing was collapsed on the floor. “Everything’s so… quiet.” Soundwave touched his helm, his claws coming back stained with his own energon. “Heh. That’s a big ouch. I dunno what you did, Screamer, but I’m fine now.” Soundwave projected a smiley on his facescreen. 

“I didn’t-” Starscream began.

“Thanks for dragging me here, Reddie- Reddie? You alright?” Soundwave asked, his optic narrowing with worry. “You don’t look too hot.” Despite his attempts at seeming calm, he was still shaking horribly. 

“There was a voice.” Red Wing whispered as soon as their voice returned to them, their vocalizer hoarse and scratchy. “In my processor. It- it-” This couldn’t be happening. It couldn’t be. Red Wing wasn’t an Outlier, or anything special. They were them- themself, a Seeker. They heard a voice in their fragging helm, this wasn’t something that should be happening. Slowly, a realization began to creep up on them, worse than the one that had come about jacking in. 

“Wh- you’re not a telepath-” Soundwave’s optic narrowed, trembling on his facescreen. 

“I could understand it.” Red Wing’s voice was trembling, despite their attempts to steady it. That- that had been something that was alive. Not a glitch. “I could understand it.” They closed their optics, terror racing through them as the full realization of what truly had happened dawned on them. 

Something alive that had examined their very thoughts, and examined Soundwave’s as well. Soundwave, the mech who was a walking database for all Decepticon secrets. Red Wing themself had bucketloads of information that they’d downloaded… the files on language, files on protocols and battles and operations, and the myriad of things they’d learnt on their own. They had access codes, and knowledge on how to navigate the Victory’s computer systems.

Their tanks must not be even in their frame anymore now, with how far they’d sunk down. 

“Soundwave- that noise, it- We’re compromised, now. Both of us.” Red Wing said, voice barely a whisper. “It was in the computers, I jacked in to see what was wrong, what might have been controlling the systems- it got to me there. Anyone who goes in- they’ll be compromised as well.”

More accurately, as a certain Seeker would put it, the Decepticons were completely fragged. Something had control over the ship and access into Soundwave’s mind. Red Wing was unsure whether it could access their own.

Soundwave’s single optic turned into a tiny speck. “Oh. Oh no. We’re ab-so-lute-ly fragged.” He let out a chuckle that morphed into a sob, and he hid his face in his claws. “Oh no, oh Unicron no… What’ve I let happen…” The mech devolved into trembling. 

What had Red Wing done?

::Red? RED!?:: Bitstream’s comm pings were growing more insistent, and Red Wing finally replied, hoping their voice wasn’t too shaky.

::Bits, I’m sorry for causing you to worry- Something- something happened..:: Bitstream knew a lot of mecha, and was famous for being a chatterbox, and any information or warnings would likely spread from him across the whole ship. ::Don’t jack into anything, don’t let anyone else touch their cables to any computer ports. They’re not safe.:: Red Wing hated leaving out part of the truth, but it was clear spilling everything would be a bad choice. But they couldn’t leave him entirely in the dark. They weren’t going to do that, no way in hell. 

::Red Wing, please tell me you’re okay, that Soundwave’s okay- are you guys still yourselves? Is that thing still-:: Bitstream’s vocalizer was practically glitching with how fast he was talking, questions flying at Red Wing at an alarming speed.

::He is. I… think I am.:: Red Wing replied. Unicron above, he was a terrible liar.

::What happened to you? What happened to him?:: 

Starscream stood up, reaching a taloned servo out for Red Wing to grab. He helped pull the other mech up. The white Seeker’s optics weren’t on Red Wing, they were off in the distance, staring at nothing.

Soundwave shook his helm to clear it, his wings still trembling like organic plants in Earth’s winds. The large jet’s claws shook. Starscream also helped the much larger jet, letting Soundwave lean on him. 

Red Wing’s struts felt like rubber. “Sirs, not to pres— presume anything, but… how will we explain what happened? Mecha are going to ask questions.” Red Wing internally slapped himself for piping up. It wasn’t his place to be doing so in front of commanders. 

“I don’t- I don’t know, but we can’t tell them the truth.” Sondwave shook out his plating, still trembling. The effects of mental overstimulation were likely still lingering. He paused for a time, staring off into space. “We gotta lie to everyone, tell them it was some- some glitch, or a system error. As long as none of the tech— um, techies poke around too much, we- we should be able to keep up that c-cover story. We can inform Megatron and S-Skywarp, but we can’t let anyone else know.” His voice cracked in desperation when he said can’t. “It’d cause mass panic.” The stealth jet slowly calmed, his optic growing back to its usual size, and his claws beginning to steady. His voice began to cease trembling, as well, but his wings didn’t stop shaking. 

Starscream wasn’t even listening, it seemed. He was silent, an expression of horror and guilt on his face. Soundwave was leaning on him still, clinging to him a little bit. 

“Un-unless you’ve let something slip, or Star has through his b-bond, we can pretend it was errors. Reddie’s a t-techie, y-you’re a scientist. Mecha’ll listen to ya.” Soundwave’s terror was still there, palpable in his posture, but his voice was getting harsher. Red Wing often recalled him getting that way when things were serious and he was giving out orders. 

Red Wing nodded, though it was more of a helm jerk than a nod. “I-I did let something slip. I told Bitstream that- that something had happened, and not to jack into anything.” Should they have kept their mouth shut? The idea of leaving Bitstream in the dark made them uncomfortable. They had to, but it still didn’t feel right to practically lie to him.

Soundwave’s facescreen went blank. “Don’t tell him anything further.” Soundwave’s humorous demeanor was entirely gone, and it kind of frightened Red Wing. Fortunately, the mech was no longer outwardly panicking. “I know this sounds wrong, but if the whole ship knows we’ve been compromised, morale will drop like a wingless bomber. Got it?”

Red Wing nodded again. “I understand.” Unicron above and Primus below… this was terrifying, and wrong. Others had the right to know what was happening! But, Soundwave far outranked them. It was not their place to dispute this, not that they had the courage to anyway. It was their place to follow orders. “I’ll keep my vocalizer off, sir.”

Soundwave flicked his wings in acknowledgement. “I know this feels wrong, you two, but we won’t be able to deal with this crisis, by that I mean whatever the hell just fucked with our heads, if we’ve got a panicking ship. If anyone starts acting strange, or you feel that voice in your head again- come get me. It got to you through the computers, so keep away from them. I’ll tell everyone that you injured your cables or something.” 

Starscream finally spoke as he cycled his optics, cutting off what Red Wing was going to say. “You want me to lie?” Starscream looked up at Soundwave. “Leave everyone in the dark to what happened? Leave everyone unaware of the danger?”

“Look, Screamer, I respect you lots, but this is not the place for you to be making any of your usual ‘lying bad’ judgements. Your mind wasn’t read like a damn book, and you have even less of an idea of what’s happening than we do.” Soundwave snapped. “And, while it sounds nice to warn everyone of the danger, it won’t help, Starscream. We stand a much better chance of figuring out what in the name of Unicron did this to Red and I if everyone isn’t freaking out and worrying about their minds being invaded too. You know all too well how people acted after the Institute got first raided, and the info about what they did down there to people’s minds got leaked. Everyone was fragging terrified! Do you want that to happen again, Screamer?” Soundwave asked.

Red Wing shuddered at the very mention of the name, regrettably proving Soundwave’s point. 

Starscream opened his mouth to protest, but quickly closed it, staring at the ground. Red Wing could tell the other shared their feelings. 

“Good. We can tell everyone once we have whatever did this eliminated, preferably with its head on a pike.” Soundwave’s wings flicked in anger. All that fear had turned into rage, it’d seemed. “Do you two understand?” 

“Understand what?” Another voice chirped from across the room.

* * *

_And now, we return to Soundwave. This just isn’t his day, it seems. Forgive me for the lack of opening narration, I’m, as Soundy will put it, a bit irritated still about how I wasn’t properly informed. Me! Gossiping?! The audacity of that accusation! I thought I knew these mecha! I’ll have all of you know that I’m perfectly unbiased, and can keep secrets incredibly well! Hmph. Nightbird’s the gossiping one. I just occasionally talk to her for… research purposes. I swear. Now, onto the document. If I get one more instance of being accused of gossipping I’m setting this datapad on fire._

Everyone’s helms whipped around to see Nova Storm, his frame semi-transparent, poking through the wall. Oh, just wonderful. One of the younger Outliers that trailed after Thundercracker. Soundwave now had to force himself to appear wholly calm. He was still panicking, but he let that fear turn into anger, and let the anger at having his processor violated again well up. There was use breaking down. That hadn’t saved him the last time something had happened, and fear didn’t save him this time. Soundwave’s processor was still a bit scrambled, and still coming down from the sensory overload that had come from the mental invasion. Soundwave’s control of his abilities was out the window, and while thoughts weren’t pouring in, he still detected feelings unwillingly. Wonderful. Soundwave wanted to curl up into a ball and hide away, but right now he couldn’t. 

The little (practically microscopic to Soundwave) Seeker’s frame looked partially transparent and misty, meaning he was using his abilities.

“Is there something happening- wait, am I interrupting something? Gosh I’m sorry if I did-” The pink and purple jet asked, his wings and canards moving around in an erratic pattern. “Oh! Soundwave! You’re okay! That’s great!” He chirped. “But, seriously, what do we have to understand?” Curiosity and confusion, with bits of excitement laced through both, came from Nova Storm. Soundwave felt bits of scrambled thoughts from Nova Storm- they came quickly, and were all jumbled up and chaotic, flowing and rushing like a river. It was practically like the little jet had multiple different trains of thought at once, and by Unicron did he have no mental filter. Nova Storm’s processor was processing every little bit of sensory feedback he got, in addition to running multiple trains of thought. It was horrible, horrible mental noise for Soundwave. It wasn’t as horrific as the overwhelming amount that had assaulted his thoughts before, but it was terrible. It got his mind off his fear, though. 

Just as Nova Storm began to chatter again, again the door to the lab whooshed open, and Thundercracker stalked in, dark wings spread wide. Oh. Lovely. Soundwave heard Red Wing shuffle behind him, and detected fear coming from the ground attack jet. Soundwave didn’t bother shutting off his abilities, he wouldn’t be able to anyway with how scared he was. Red Wing’s emotions bleeding in probably didn’t help him. Soundwave wanted to let himself break down again just to let what he was feeling out, but if he did, things would go even more to shit then they’d gone already. He had to act natural to deter Thundercracker’s suspicion. Since if he was suspicious, Soundwave would never hear the end of it. 

Thundercracker was the second most bullheaded individual on the ship when it came to refusing to let things go. First was Airachnid. Third was the disaster biplane. Thoughts from Nova Storm occasionally burbled in, like a ferrofrog in fast-moving river, the pink mech’s thoughts hopped from one thing to the next, rapidly moving to anything associated with the current situation and then looping themselves back around for another whirl. And he also thought quite a bit about death. Alright then. Soundwave tore his focus away to Thundercracker, which resulted in everyone’s least favorite Wing commander’s feelings dribble into Soundwave’s processor. 

“Soundwave. You’re not dead. What happened?” Thundercracker asked bluntly, his tone gruff and his face expressionless. Genuine concern and care filtered in from Thundercracker, but his voice sounded like he didn’t give two bits of a scrap. Stress also filtered through, but that seemed like it came from Skywarp. It joined Soundwave’s own stress, having a fun little ‘break down and cry’ party in his processor. Just peachy. 

Soundwave began frantically cursing in his own thoughts. “A glitch. A big fragging glitch. I dunno what happened, but it’s solved now. Reddie here helped a bunch.” Soundwave, thinking far too quick for proper intelligence, shoved a startled Red Wing out from behind him, projecting a smile on his facescreen. “He and his cables, you shoulda seen it! But you were prolly off keeping mecha safe, eh? What’d you get up to, TC?” Soundwave asked, hoping it’d distract the Seeker. “Did you keep your three little gremlins together? Did Nova do his lil voop through the floor? Don’t tell me- he crashed on the disaster biplane again. How many times has he done that?”

“Hey! I only landed on Fulcrum once!” Nova Storm protested. 

::Stay calm, Reddie.:: Soundwave commed Red Wing. ::You’re safe. I think.:: Soundwave could sense the anxiety creeping in from Red Wing. Understandable, since Thundercracker’s default facial expression looked a lot like ‘barely controlled homicidal rage’. That was just his resting calm face.

Red Wing froze when Thundercracker’s gaze fell on them. Soundwave had heard of the Wing Commander’s… reputation among the troops. Soundwave realized — sadly, too little too late — that it probably wasn’t a good idea to have brought the poor thing into Thundercracker’s focus, especially so soon after what he’d gone through. Soundwave internally slapped himself for it. He’d need to apologize right after this for his foolishness. He’d made that decision far too quickly and hadn’t even considered that putting Red Wing the spot in front of a famously harsh and frightening commander was a terrible idea. 

“Good job.” Thundercracker said curtly, before the mech turned his gaze to Starscream. The feelings that bled in from Thundercracker turned to concernand fear when he looked at his brother, along with a growing sense of suspicion. Frag it all. 

“Screamer here helped, too. Helped my aft when I wasn’t feeling too hot. You’ve got one genius of a brother, I’ll tell you tha-” Soundwave was cut off by Thundercracker speaking.

“Starscream informed me you went catatonic. Do you require medical assistance?” Thundercracker’s expression didn’t change one bit, and neither did his voice. His thoughts did, however, a growing negativity coming from him the more he looked at Starscream’s guilt-ridden expression. 

He was going to scream. “I’m a-okay. What’d the Screamster say to ya? The poor guy’s still a bit guilty over not being able to help me as much as he thinks he should, you know how he gets.” Soundwave chuckled, swearing up a storm in his own processor.

Thundercracker’s optics, the same unnatural shade of blue as Starscream’s, narrowed a sliver. Red Wing kept trembling, and in response Soundwave laid a claw on his shoulder, a new wave of emotion rushing in from the touch. Soundwave’s not-hands weren’t as good as the ones that had been taken from him, but they still worked for thought reading, regrettably. Soundwave gave Red Wing a pat on their shoulder. He recalled that gesture being one of comfort for Vosians. 

“Starscream told me several things.” Thundercracker said. “They’re quite… irrelevant.” The Seeker crossed his arms. 

Thundercracker was lying. Soundwave could sense it. 

“Soundwave?” Starscream piped up.

“Okay, keep your secrets, grumpywings. Anyway, Reddie and I should be heading back to our room. I’m sure Bits is panicking. Either that or he’s killed Radar by now. Y’know, I’m kinda hoping that last option comes.” Soundwave gave a forced chuckle. “Red also probably needs a break. They’ve had a tiring day.” The poor thing. Soundwave was used to this, used to foreign thoughts. Red Wing was only used to visual stimuli and interfacing with technology. The poor thing had likely been horribly overwhelmed. Soundwave would ask Air Commander Skywarp to take Red Wing off duty for a time. He felt a sense of guilt rise up in him for letting Red Wing be dragged into this situation. Unicron above and Primus below he was an aftwipe for that. Soundwave’s feelings were exacerbated by the guilt Starscream was radiating out, the fear Red Wing was slowly being consumed by, and the concern from the three Rainmakers (who’s bonds formed a circuit, meaning they were slowly amping up each other’s feelings).

Thundercracker may or may not have heard, but he did not visually acknowledge Soundwave. The Rainmakers clustered around him, a mess of bright colors and shared thoughts. Soundwave slapped himself internally again. Why’d he do that to Red Wing? Soundwave kept beating back his desire to curl up, and commed Red Wing.

::Red Wing- I’m sorry. I’m- I shouldn’t have done that, put you on the spot like that. I wasn’t thinking, I’m-:: Soundwave paused as Red Wing looked up at him. 

::There is no need to apologize, sir. I did what I was ordered to do. You should be more concerned with how you were compromised than what happened to me.:: Red Wing replied. Soundwave could sense how they really felt-- the anger simmering below the horror and the lingering effects of the intrusion. Of course Red Wing was going to say that. The damn jet rarely spoke their mind around those who outranked them, even when they wanted to. 

::Get to the medbay, Reddie. I’ll… tag along, I guess. Sorry for dragging you into this.:: Soundwave apologized again, as if an apology could undo the fact that Red Wing had something pawing through their mind.

::I am uninjured. Wouldn’t going there risk revealing what happened?:: Red Wing responded, voice quiet, even over the comms. It was whiplash when Soundwave detected another wave of anger and fear.

Seems today was marked by that last emotion.

::You’re not feeling well, and I’m gonna tell the other techies you injured your cables during like, a fall or something. If you haven’t visited the medbay, that cover won’t work. The medics are bound by confidentiality not to tell anyone what they did or found.:: Soundwave touched his helm again. The bleeding had stopped, fortunately. Thundercracker had likely noticed it. Wonderful. ::I’m also going to ask Skywarp to take you off duty. Rest, preferably in a low-stimulation environment. Sunstorm should know a few.:: Soundwave said over the comms. He hurt, but he’d gone through things like this before, and he knew how overwhelming they could get. Red was likely fine physically, but he’d need rest and time to recuperate from those experiences. 

Red Wing gave an acknowledgement with his wings, and headed towards the medbay. Soundwave fidgeted with his talons, a mix of apprehension, fear, guilt and anger mixing in him. His anxiety spiked when he remembered his now-adult sparklings - Frenzy, Rumble, and Flip Sides had just recently returned to the Victory after a mission. What if whatever had hurt him came for them? What if it came for the rest of the techies- he knew one of them would likely jack in regardless of warnings… if it got any more of them, or if it got his family… No, no that… that couldn’t… 

Soundwave wasn’t going to think about that. He wouldn’t let it happen. They’d find whatever was doing this, and he’d tear it limb from limb before he let that happen.

* * *

…

Tired. 

He was _tired._

So.

So. 

Tired.

Aches. His now-ancient wounds ached still.

Fragile. 

These parasitic little things were so fragile.

Sleep.

It was creeping up on him rapidly. 

Gentle. He’d have to be gentler next time.

He felt remorseful. Regretful for using such force.

He shouldn’t have caused them pain. 

Sleep. 

He’d let himself sleep. Hopefully he’d wake up soon.

Soon.

He’d have to try again soon.

Soon.

…


End file.
